It began with a twinge of curiosity but, of late, she had written various letters that entailed the erotically vivid escapades that would make even the most devout of nun's giggle. Professor filch was the dirtiest cleaner she had ever known. Finally the tapping started, for the entire night Aunt Petunia was waiting for this moment. She untwisted herself from the flannelette sheets and sat with her back to the gurgling snores that erupted from the potbelly of her husband. The tapping grew louder and faster sending her heart into a flutter. She quickly slid her feet into her slippers and flip-flopped in a flurry up the stairs and into the attic. In the dark room at the top of the stairs she was greeted by a scrawny brown owl, who pecked at the glass. She opened the window and Bandit was on her shoulder, nuzzling its warm feathered breast against her ear, cooing for an extra snack. Attached to its foot was one of the many letters addressed to Petunia. Her cheeks burned before her shaking hands unraveled the paper.
Dearest Petuniana Phoenix-Feather,
I dreamt last night of your warm touch, caressing the chill in my bones. I tingled at the very thought of you on me. Then you whispered in my ear, "Areybous Filch, you are the most endearing of gentlemen I have ever played with. I think its time you cast away such foolish masquerades and foil me with your urgent and passionate lovemaking". My verbal response choked inside me, and instead I was filled with a surge that lengthened to the last inch of me. It was all I could to not to have you there and then but I resisted and bid you good night. "Only on the eve of the Corcrux Moon will I fill you with my desire".
Meet me at the Womping Willow. You know when.
Areybous Filch.
Petunia crumpled the paper to her loins and whispered to the night sky "My Prince".